


It Will Come Back

by innersanctuaries



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Purgatory, Sam Winchester Has Nightmares, Sam Winchester Has a Crush on Gabriel, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, also he's the depressed one, he just wants to get out of purgatory, not because of depression i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innersanctuaries/pseuds/innersanctuaries
Summary: When he felt it, Gabriel was in the process of attempting to keep an angry vampire from tearing his throat out.It wasn’t the spray of blood that decorated his face and clothes as he hacked his attacker’s head off. It wasn’t the twinge of frustration that coursed through him once he realized he’d have to go find somewhere to rinse himself off again.Gabriel felt a tug.Sequel toArchangelicabynommunication
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nommunication](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nommunication/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Archangelica](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056456) by [nommunication](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nommunication/pseuds/nommunication). 



> I wrote this in 2017. Yes, four fucking years ago. It's been a hot minute, and I'd just like to take a moment to apologize if this doesn't sound as good as my current fics. I was eighteen and this was only the second fic I'd ever written. I love it with all of my heart, but I'm aware that it's not as great as my other stuff. Trust me, I know.
> 
> I also haven't completely finished it. Buyer beware and all that, but I'm posting this because I know I'll be more motivated to write with some feedback from readers. I know I work better when people give me input, so that's why I'm posting it. I really do want to finish this, and I have a vague plan of what I want to happen, but I can't guarantee an end date yet. Keep that in mind as you read. I have a total of 48k words of this, so there's enough material for this to keep going for a while, but like I said, I don't know when or if I'll finish this. I can't guarantee that every chapter will be as long as this one!
> 
> This is a sequel to one of my favorite fanfictions I have ever read in my 22 years of living. I have it linked in the summary, and I'm pretty sure ao3 will tag them as well. I just want you all to know that nommunication is a legendary author, and if you don't go read their fic, you're absolutely missing out. You can read this as a standalone, but it'll make a lot more sense and will be a whole lot better if you read their fic first. I have permission from the author to write and post this, don't worry! Hopefully their offer still stands after four years. 
> 
> I know the author's note is long enough to be a 2014 fanfiction, but I just have a lot to say. All in all, I really hope you guys enjoy this. I'm editing it to the best of my abilities to make it readable, so hopefully this goes well.

When he felt it, Gabriel was in the process of attempting to keep an angry vampire from tearing his throat out. 

It wasn’t the spray of blood that decorated his face and clothes as he hacked his attacker’s head off. It wasn’t the twinge of frustration that coursed through him once he realized he’d have to go find somewhere to rinse himself off  _ again _ . 

Gabriel felt a tug. 

It almost cost him his life, making him balk instead of swinging his blade. Still, Gabriel managed, because of course he had. He was an archangel, despite what every other monster in Purgatory might think. 

_ What the hell was that? _

Besides the fact that it’d nearly gotten him killed, all Gabriel knew was that it had come from a place he hadn’t been to in the longest time. Not in months, years, decades, possibly even centuries. There was definitely a pull, something out of place, but not from here. Someplace up top, in the land of the living.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the sky. All he saw was grey, much like everything else around him. It wasn’t often that he looked up, at least not anymore. Usually, his only focus was on everything else around him, and not getting himself killed. This time, he looked straight up at earth. Who knew how long it had been since he’d even thought of his time up top? 

Memories he kept locked away came back to him, one by one. Mostly of his greatest pranks, others reminding him of the countless people he’d lost. Strangely enough, one person kept popping up, over and over again, despite the relatively short time they’d spent together.

Sam Winchester.

_ Was it him?  _ Gabriel thought. He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Sam was only on his mind because he was one of the last people he’d seen before Gabriel had been run through by his brother. The guy hated him, why would he be calling out to Gabriel?

Before he could dwell on the subject any longer, the bushes rustled, and he bolted out of there faster than you could say ‘werewolf’. One monster per hour was more than enough, and he’d more than fulfilled his quota. Come to think of it, his hands were still covered in drying blood, already beginning to itch and flake off. 

He went to scratch at it, but ended up in a completely different place, absentmindedly running his fingers over the scars beginning at the nape of his neck, ultimately covering the expanse of his back. They were jagged, marring what used to be a stretch of smooth skin. Gabriel could almost feel the sting of the open wounds that they once were. 

The ground crunched softly under his feet, keeping him rooted in the real world. Protection was hard to come by down here, even more so as an angel. His grace might as well have been a flashing neon sign the size of Texas, screaming  _ ‘Archangel here, I cordially invite you to tear me to shreds!’ _ . At least, it had been before he’d painstakingly carved as many binding, suppression, illusion, and disguise spells and runes into his own flesh. Some of the scars dated back to when he first got here, while others weren’t so much scars as they were bleeding wounds. As he’d started running out of space, the cuts had slowly begun to crawl their way around to his torso and down his arms.

Gabriel had never before thought that being an archangel could be a weakness, not until after he’d been granted the  _ incredible  _ privilege of being beamed down here after death. 

_ Thanks a lot, daddy-o. No, really, I’m absolutely  _ **_ecstatic_ ** _ about getting to hang around here with all these filthy, stinking monsters for the rest of eternity. I’m forever in your debt.  _

Sometimes he thought he’d rather have just blinked out of existence for good. Complete nothingness sounded pretty appealing every now and then.  __

Time went by quickly when he was brooding. He came to rest at the pathetic little stream, where he took the opportunity to wash his hands in the cool water, threading his fingers through what used to be golden brown hair. Of course, thanks to Purgatory being such a lovely and hospitable place, it had faded until it became pallid and bland, just like everything else around him.

Splashing his face with water, Gabriel’s thoughts drifted back to Sam. 

Gabriel had always felt a strange sort of affinity for the kid, emphasis on the  _ ‘kid’ _ . Gabriel had seen him grow up, knowing that the poor little shit was destined to be Lucifer’s vessel. The child with the demon blood, the one who would kick off the raging party known as the apocalypse. Every other angel in heaven would wrinkle their nose in disgust at the mention of him, as if they’d just been sprayed by a skunk. He was the one and only angel that would freely speak about Sam, even if sometimes it was just to grate on people’s nerves.

It had gotten to the point where Michael ordered him to never say a word about him again, so he didn’t. But if Michael woke up with a tattoo of Sam Winchester’s name on his ass in perfect cursive, the trickster swore up and down that he had absolutely nothing to do with it. 

As for Sam, Gabriel liked him well enough. He was headstrong, smart, and knew how to not only appreciate a good prank, but how to pull off a few of his own. He watched over the little tyke, even after he wasn’t all that little anymore. He’d done a happy dance when the brainiac made it into Stanford and finally escaped the life of a hunter. Hope that this would change the future and prevent him from causing the apocalypse had rushed through him. 

Of course, it had been far too good to be true. Azazel reared his ugly head _ , _ and after the death of his girlfriend, Sam got thrown right back into the mix. Gabriel would never stop cursing himself for not stepping in, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t have done jack shit in the long run. 

When he finally showed himself to Sam, it was dumb as shit.

_ "Hey, guess who’s a trickster and totally not the angel that’s been looking over you your whole damn life?" _

Absolute genius.

It didn’t help that every time that he ran into Sam, he liked him more and more. The exact opposite went for Sam. Every time he ran into Gabriel, he hated him more and more. It probably hadn’t helped that Gabriel had killed Dean a hundred times. But hey, he wasn’t exactly the best at showing his affection for others. 

When he did die, he’d done it for Sam. The thought never would have crossed anyone’s mind, but that’s how it was. If he killed Lucifer, his own brother, he could save Sam. Funny how Gabriel had practically tortured Sam to get him to realize how Dean was his greatest weakness, when Sam had been Gabriel’s all along. He’d told Sam that his love for Dean would bite him in the ass, and without even realizing it, Gabriel’s love for Sam had done just that to him.

__ Gabriel winced at his own thoughts.  _ Love might not be the right word,  _ He thought. _ Let’s go with ‘mild affection’.  _

So off he’d gone on his little suicide mission. Gabriel knew from the start that he wouldn’t make it out of the Elysian Fields hotel alive, yet he went anyway. Walking into that building, he could only think of how much he hoped that this would change Sam’s mind about him. That it might redeem him.

_ I pray that he saw that I cared, even if it was too much for my own good. _

When he’d gotten an angel blade to the gut, it hurt. Knowing that it was his brother who’d killed him without a second thought, seeing that remorseless smile on his face, it hurt more than the blade that pierced his heart. Despite it all, his last thought was that it had been worth it. All of it had been worth it. Even to this day, rotting down here in Purgatory, he still believed that wholeheartedly.

Point being, Gabriel  _ really _ liked the jolly not-so-green giant lookalike. Yet, for two years, he’d managed to get by with only the occasional moment of wondering how he was doing. But now, out of absolutely nowhere, nothing would get Sam out of his head.  __

He was ripped from his little trip to la la land via an animalistic snarl coming directly from behind him. Blade in hand, Gabriel rose up, ready to fight. This was exactly what he needed to forget it all, this was all he needed to be focusing on. Staying alive. 

A whirlwind of claws and a knife clashing followed by a wailing death cry later, Gabriel realized that he’d been right. A werewolf kill was just what he needed to take his mind off of everything. 

It wouldn’t work for long.

__________

He first heard it from a demon. 

Gabriel thought she was lying, because, well, she was a demon _.  _

He then heard it from a shapeshifter. 

That was the point where it started getting weird, because why would two of them lie when he was holding a knife to their throat?

The third time, he heard it from a leviathan. He  _ really _ fucking hated leviathans.

Gabriel finally believed it then, entirely because the smug douchebags absolutely  _ loved _ to brag about shit they knew and you didn’t. He also believed it because he was about five seconds from killing the son of a bitch. Three different monsters that were practically on their deathbeds  _ probably  _ wouldn’t lie, especially ones who didn’t even know each other.

_ Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel are in Purgatory. _

How they’d managed to get their dumb asses stuck down here, he didn’t know. The only thing on his mind was finding them  _ and _ a way out. Humans and angels don’t belong in Purgatory. Which once more brought up the age-old question:

_ Why the hell am  _ **_I_ ** _ down here? _

That was how Gabriel had spent his first six months down here. Wallowing and wondering why he couldn’t have just  _ died _ . Ironically enough, doing that was exactly what had almost gotten him killed countless times. He never really knew why he hadn’t just given in and let himself get run through by some fanged or clawed bastard. It’s not like there weren’t plenty of volunteers throwing themselves at him to do so. 

At some point, he’d realized just how pointless it was to dwell on that. How pointless it was to sit and whine about everything. He’d thrown himself into just surviving. His time in the real world became a distant memory.

And it had. Up until a few days ago, at least.

Whatever he’d felt, it reminded him of every last thing Gabriel had spent so long trying to forget. Now, someone tells him that his little brother and Castiel’s smarmy boyfriend were down here with him? 

_ This is going to be absolutely fan-fucking-tastic. _

__________

It’d been a month since he first found out about Castiel and Dean.

An insufferable, fruitless month entirely made up of nearly catching up to them, but always ending up just running into their leftovers.

Mostly, it was bodies. Lots and lots of bodies. You could always tell which ones were their kills and which ones weren’t. Mainly because half of them sat there, eyes burned out of their skulls. He always shook his head upon seeing them. Castiel was smarter than this. Their grace was a monster magnet down here, yet his strategy was the exact opposite of Gabriel’s. Use it freely and take as many down as you can, even if it means drawing ridiculous amounts of attention to yourself.

Then again, Gabriel had always been the one good at hiding.

The times that he ran into someone that had managed to get away from the dynamic duo were the best. Not only did he get the privilege of offing them himself, but he got to press them for information. He liked being kept in the loop, and down here, being kept in said loop meant holding people at gunpoint until they coughed up what you wanted to know.

__ Unfortunately for him, every time he did get something out of someone, it was always the same thing.

_ You just missed them by a day. _

It was almost enough to drive him absolutely fucking insane. 

__________

Gabriel had nearly given up after looking for so long. 

It had been what seemed like an eternity, although he wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been searching. He estimated it was a little over a month. It didn’t sound like much time, not until you considered exactly what a full month in Purgatory meant. About ninety percent of that time had been spent slitting throats, beheading monsters, and several other methods of killing whatever got in his way. 

Gabriel had been ready to quit. Until he heard a howl. He knew on the spot, that wasn’t a werewolf, it wasn’t anything that should have ever been down here in Purgatory.

_ That’s my fucking wolf. _

Well, it was kind of his wolf. Sometimes, he forgot that he’d posed as a pagan god for so long, long enough to even have a daughter. Now of course, said daughter had a wolf. She’d wanted a puppy, who was he to deny her one?

He knew right then that whatever was down here, it was Fenris, and possibly even Hel, his daughter. If Fenris was here, then the literal highway to hell was up and ready to go. Not to mention, if it was open, there was really only one person that would have been able to get it ready. 

_ Sam. _

Gabriel had never run so fast in his life, desperate to catch up. His lungs burned, legs ached. He wasn’t used to it, even after all the time he’d spent in this shit place.

Another howl came, further away from him this time.

_ No, I’m not fast enough, I have to be fast enough _

He did something risky, because he was Gabriel, and it was  _ Sam. _

He turned his grace right back on.

A supernova of pain shot through him, enough to make him let out a small cry and falter for a split second. If not for his desperation, Gabriel was sure he would have keeled over on the spot. But that wasn’t the case, not at all. 

Gabriel felt the power course through him the moment the pain ebbed, the aching in his legs and lungs disappearing on the spot. If they wouldn’t be bound as tightly as they were, he knew his wings would have sprouted from his back, allowing him to catch up to them right then and there. But he could settle for this.

Through the trees, he caught a flash of fur just a bit away. Close enough to run to, too far for anyone to hear over the noise of their surroundings. He wasn’t the only one chasing them. Three, four other monsters were running ahead of him, armed and ready to kill the figures bounding towards a glowing dot in the distance.

_ Let’s show these bastards a good time, why don’t we?  _

His blade was out before you could blink, and he was on the first one within seconds. Bodies dropped, one by one, until they were all he left in his wake. 

Now, without anyone in his way, he was free to practically fly forward to freedom, to Sam.

They were right there, right in front of him. He could see the three figures, the Winchesters and his brother, alongside the enormous dog and a goddess. All five were stopped in front of a portal,  _ the _ portal. The one way home. One by one, they began stepping through, walking out into what may as well have been heaven to them. Gabriel waved his arms and shouted as it came down to just the tallest one of the humans and Fenris. 

“Sam! Wait!”

Too late.

The portal closed immediately, no chance of any stragglers getting through. He supposed he was one of said stragglers. Gabriel cursed himself for not being quick enough, not loud enough, just not enough.

He cursed and hit the nearest tree with every ounce of his strength. It snapped where his fist had landed, and it fell to the ground with a loud thud. Surprised, he stared down at his bloody fist, which was quickly healing. 

_ Oh fuck. _

As the anger ebbed, he realized just what he’d done in his desperate attempt to get out. His grace was freed for now, some of the binding words scrawled into his skin having disappeared. They burned and itched like hell. He scratched at them until they were bloody and the pain had eased.

_ Awesome, now I’m a spotlight.  _

__ He begrudgingly took his knife out and got to work once more, carefully beginning to carve enochian sigils and nordic runes into his skin. 

__________

Not one week later, as he was meticulously slicing a binding spell into his forearm, he felt his energy suddenly drain from his body. His vision went black, and the last thing he saw was the ground coming up to ever so kindly greet his face.

He did eventually wake up, though he wasn’t sure when. There was no night and day here, just this infuriating in between. He’d recuperated some of his strength, though his legs were still a bit wobbly, his head fuzzy. Surprisingly, nobody had found and killed him.

_ What the hell was that? _

Gabriel wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but he sure as hell hoped it didn’t happen again. He was lucky he’d survived the experience.

__________

Once more, he first heard it from a demon, a month and a half and what seemed like a million scars later. For some reason, there were plenty of demons down here. He assumed that the black-eyed jackwagons killed with the dagger or an angel blade ended up here. They sure as hell didn’t seem to end up in, well, hell. 

He’d somehow managed to come up behind him, and before Gabriel knew it, he was trapped in a vice-like grip with a knife pressed up to his throat. If he tried to move, it’d be sayonara, auf wiedersehen, hasta la bye bye. Fuck’s sake, it was sharp enough that it was already drawing blood.

“On a scale of one to easy to an easy kill, how human are you?” 

The voice was nearly a growl, rough from lack of use. His breath was sour and warm against the side of his head, and Gabriel wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Next time try brushing your teeth before you try sweet talking me, yeah?” Gabriel snarked, swallowing hard when the knife dug further into the soft skin of his throat. How the hell was he supposed to answer that question? He’d most likely end up dead if he said yes, and even more so if he said no. “Alright, alright, damn! I’m as human as you can get, so take it easy with the knife.”

The pressure subsided enough that he could breathe easily again. 

“What’s your name?” The stranger asked, still not showing himself.

“Why the hell do you care?” The hand grasping his arm tightened, nearly enough to break something. Gabriel panicked, his mind sifting though a million different aliases, up until realizing that there was only one human being that could be stuck down here. “Alright, fine! My name’s Dean Winchester.”

The blade was lowered from his neck. He was quickly spun around and pinned up against a tree. Now he’d gone from a knife at his throat to an arm roughly pressed up against it. 

_ Oh yeah, there goes my windpipe.  _

“You’re Dean Winchester?”

__ Gabriel rolled his eyes so hard he practically saw his own brain.

_ Dad, I’m not sure what I did to land myself in this place with all of these colossal idiots, but please have some mercy on your son’s soul. _

“Yeah, buddy. We’ve established this. Either tell me what you want or just kill me now, because I’m starting to get bored here.”

The demon sneered, looking down at him with contempt. “You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.”

“Are we seriously gonna have this conversation right now? Or at all?”

Shrugging, he looked Gabriel up and down, examining him top to bottom. When finished, pitch black eyes locked with his amber ones. 

“What if I told you there was a way out of here?” The demon said, curling his lip at the sight of Gabriel.

“I’d tell you you’re a terrible liar, which is surprising for a demon.”

The man had an awful laugh, he sounded just like a stereotypical bad guy. “Oh Dean, you’re too funny. No, I’m not lying. There  _ is  _ a way out. But just for you, my friend.”

Gabriel’s ears perked up. He narrowed his eyes at the other man. “I’m listening.”

Black eyes snapped back to the pale blue they probably were when there wasn’t a demon inhabiting the body they belonged to. The poor guy in that meat suit was long gone, hopefully in heaven. 

“There’s a way to get back up top. But of course, there’s a catch. It’s only in case some poor, innocent human, like you,” he said, gesturing at Gabriel with his free hand. “Gets stuck down here.”

“So what’s that supposed to mean to me?”

“It’s supposed to mean that you’re getting out of here, friend! At least, as long as you take me with you.”

Gabriel had never laughed harder in his life than he did at that moment. Mind you, he was a trickster AND an angel. He’d had some damn good laughs in his lifetime, and he’d had long-ass lifetime. If his arms hadn’t been pinned down, he would have reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“That’s absolutely fucking hilarious. You really had me going for a second there.”

Annoyance flashed across the demon’s face. 

“I mean it, Winchester. You can get out of here, just as long as you take me.”

“Why would I take you, a demon who almost slit my damn throat and is pretty close to crushing my larynx?”

“Because I’m the one who knows where the portal is.”

This was something to seriously consider. If he took the offer, he risked getting stabbed in the back, quite literally. If he didn’t, he was once again stuck here for the rest of eternity.

_ Fine, let’s spice life up a little bit. I always did love me some spontaneity . _

“I’ll do it. But only if you let me down and let me walk on my own. I’m human and five foot eight, what am I gonna do to you?”

Gabriel  _ mostly _ wasn’t wrong. The man alongside him was at least six feet tall, although he did look frail enough to take down. The demon glared at him warily, then slowly eased his arm off of Gabriel’s neck to let him go. The archangel wasn’t stupid, he left his own blade sheathed for now. He needed information. He needed to know where this portal was. Dusting himself off, he looked up, only to find the tip of a ridiculously sharp knife in his face.

“If you try anything, I’m not telling you where it is. Or, I’ll just hurt you enough to get out with you, then kill you once we’re on the other side,” the demon snarled. “Understand?”

He nodded. The knife was lowered from his face and its owner began moving forward.

“Come on, it’s this way.”

Gabriel followed close behind. He prayed that the warding was enough to keep the demon under the illusion that he was human. Until then, he was sticking with this act. After all, Gabriel  _ was _ a pro at masquerading as things he wasn’t.

Until then, he would survive. He’d gotten himself this far, right? How hard could it be?

__________

Henry was a strange name for a demon. 

It suited his vessel, though. Milky blue eyes that stared right through you, pale blonde hair that looked white in this colorless world. He was tall and lanky, but still armed and ready to kill.

Henry and Gabriel had had too much time to talk, and since the demon seemed to be a man of few words, the trickster had taken it upon himself to fill the void with as many words as possible. He told himself it was just because he wanted to annoy the other man, but deep down, he knew it was because he missed having someone to talk to. Even if it was an irritated demon who would kill him on the spot if he knew that Gabriel was not, in fact, human.

They’d been walking for days, trekking through the monotonous woods, searching for the way out. It felt like a goddamn week when they finally,  _ finally _ stopped. Or rather, Henry stopped, and Gabriel ran into him. He’d been a bit busy telling Henry about the time he shoved a cupid’s bow up its own ass for trying to shoot an arrow at Sam. He had to make it believable that he was Dean, right?

Gabriel fell on his ass, landing with an irate ‘oof’.

“What the hell was that for?”

Henry’s brow was furrowed, confusion all over his face. Gabriel could practically see the question marks popping up over his head.

“This is it, or that’s what I was told. It’s supposed to open around a human.”

_ Shit. _

He could practically see it dawn on the demon. Gabriel hopped up and brushed himself off as quickly as possible. He’d have to be standing up for this shit. Black eyes narrowed and turned to practically glare holes through the angel’s head.

“You’re not Dean Winchester.”

“Heh,” Gabriel grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “Guilty as charged.”

Henry’s face contorted in rage. He yanked his knife out from who knows where, ready to fight. Gabriel’s own blade slid smoothly down his sleeve to fit perfectly in his hand. He brandished it like the archangel he was, eyes glowing with power. The demon started, recognizing it as an angel blade.

“What the hell are you doing down here?”

“Kiddo, if I could answer that question, do you really think I’d still be here in the first place?”

They both relaxed slightly.

“Why the act? What could you have possibly gained from any of this?”

“Who knows, maybe I just thought you needed the exercise!”

Henry shot him a look that could kill.

“How the hell are you hiding your grace?”

“Like I said, who knows?”

Henry looked down for a split second, trying to process that, and Gabriel took the opportunity to leap forward and bury his blade in the demon’s chest. 

“If I can trick you into thinking I’m human, then maybe I can trick purgatory too,” Gabriel snarled.

The life drained from his eyes, his neck and chest flashing with bright orange light. Gabriel made sure to clean his blade off with Henry’s clothes and take the demon’s knife with him before letting the body drop to the floor. The other man’s knife was shorter, the edge sharper than his own, the tip fine and precise.

He sauntered over to the tallest tree in the vicinity and started whistling a jaunty tune as he began to hop from branch to branch. Once Gabriel found the perfect spot to settle down, he pulled out his not so brand-new knife.

_ Time to find out how much shit I’ve gotta carve into myself to get the hell outta here,  _ He thought before getting to work. He would get out of here, even if it was the last thing he’d do.

__________

Turns out, he had to carve a whole lot into himself before Purgatory began to think he might be a human. 

Gabriel was usually not a patient man. Not unless it came down to things like this. He’d spent what felt like months, slowly but surely writing illusion and binding and disguising spells into his own skin. They’d crawled from his shoulders all the way down to cover his arms, then turning to creep across his entire torso. Some had even flitted down to his thighs.

With anything else, he would have given up long ago, but this was  _ freedom,  _ and he couldn’t just give that up. That’s what he constantly reminded himself of, just to give himself that small glimmer of hope.

The first time he saw it, he thought he was dreaming. It was a tiny glowing blue speck, a few yards away from him. 

He would have pinched himself to make sure he was alive, but his pain tolerance was so high at this point that it would have been so much more than pointless. Instead, he poked it. 

It looked as if it had distorted the reality around his finger, and he jumped back as if he’d been bitten. It was the portal, he was sure of it. He was ecstatic, but he also didn’t want to lose a finger to said portal by leaving it in one place too long. Gabriel wasn’t exactly sure how it worked. 

Needless to say, he got back to work as soon as angelically possible. 

He wasn’t sure if it was a psychological or physical thing, but after seeing a glimpse of the portal, the sting of every cut hurt more and more with each symbol he engraved into his skin. He’d nearly stopped feeling pain at this point, which was why he found this somewhat out of the ordinary. Of course, something that trivial was definitely not enough to make him stop. Hell, he didn’t even slow down. If anything, it spurred him on, encouraging him to pick up the damn pace.

As the hours passed, the portal continued to get larger, less unstable. There were points where he was sure it would collapse into itself, and sometimes it looked as if it had. Part of him was somewhat concerned that it’d fuck up while he was passing through, causing who knows what to happen. Most of him was just ready to leave already.

Gabriel was a dramatic person, but even he knew when it was a bit too much. Purgatory did not, he thought to himself as he was thrown backwards into a tree. The portal had snapped open, releasing an enormous shockwave that could be felt in areas days from where he was. 

_ Fuck, that’s going to get me a few unexpected visitors soon. _

He picked himself up, head spinning from the impact. Gabriel may have been seeing double, but there was no way he could have missed the huge tear in reality, showing him the world he’d been trying so desperately to get to for oh so long.

His mind immediately cleared at the sound of unknown creatures in the distance, probably closing in on him right that second.

_ This is where you’re usually supposed to run,  _ His subconscious offered.  _ Shouldn’t you get going? _

And get going he did. Gabriel didn’t think twice, didn’t look back to see if someone was on his tail. He didn’t turn to fight, because he had a way out, and he was  _ out of there _ . 

He ran until he’d made it to the portal. Gabriel didn’t stop for a single second, he just went on through.

The angel felt sun on his face, a slight breeze.

He was free.

__________

_ Usually,  _ Gabriel thought to himself.  _ When you go through a doorway or something like that, you end up on solid ground, y’know? Hit the ground running and all. _

As he hurtled through the air at superhuman speeds, he’d come to realize that this was not one of those situations. 

He hadn’t felt the wind in his hair for the longest time, and now that he had, Gabriel thought that he could die happy. Although, he would have rather gone out in style as opposed to hitting the ground at a million miles per hour. 

He opened his eyes mid-thought and saw asphalt coming toward his face far too quickly. Instinctively, he tucked and rolled in a desperate attempt to lessen the pain of the incoming collision. 

_ Oh, that didn’t do jack shit. _

If anything, that had made it worse. Gabriel skidded across the blacktop, bruising and bleeding more with every foot he traveled forward. He ended up sprawled out in the middle of an empty road, every nerve ending in his body bitching and moaning as loud as they could.

Gabriel mentally checked in with all of his limbs to make sure they were still intact. They were there, despite being pretty torn up. Looking down at his arms, he noticed some of his newer quote on quote ‘engravings’ had been completely shaved off. There were now bits and pieces of spells and sigils all over him, most of which were only half there, while others were totally gone. 

The strange thing was, they itched and burned more than hell itself. He knew he shouldn’t, but he lightly scratched at his shoulder. 

He hefted himself up, albeit painfully. The angel’s ears were still ringing, so it was a bit surprising to look over his shoulder and see a car skidding across the pavement. Whoever was driving hit the brakes too late, or maybe Gabriel hadn’t gotten his dumb ass out of the way fast enough.

Either way, one second he was standing with his back towards a moving car, and the next he heard a sickening  **_CRACK!_ ** as his back bowed back against the hood of the car. 

Even before he fell back to the floor, the pain was unimaginably intense, bad enough that even if the wind hadn’t been knocked out of him, he wouldn’t have been able to breathe anyway. Instinctively, he held his hands out to cushion the blow that was sure to come as he hit the floor. Another, quieter crack sounded out, definitely coming from his arm. Gabriel would have been more focused on that if not for the blinding pain shooting through his back.

He’d definitely broken something, and it was a whole lot of something. Gabriel wasn’t sure what, but it was enough that one of the four great and mighty archangels let out a wail loud enough to hear for miles. 

His head was spinning, but he could feel the owner of the car running over to him, to see how bad the damage was and to call whoever the hell would help him.

He’d heard of double vision, but at that moment, he could have sworn he was experiencing quadruple vision.

It had to be that, because if his eyesight wasn’t fucked, then he could have sworn that the person standing over him was none other than Dean Winchester.

The last thing he heard before he went unconscious was an annoyed douchebag muttering to himself.

“I’m too sober for this shit.”

_ Join the fucking club, buddy,  _ Gabriel thought before he spiraled into utter blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he decided to go on this hunt alone, he’d expected a lot of things. He’d expected the nest of vampires. He’d expected the werewolf along the way.
> 
> He had not expected to turn a supposedly dead archangel into roadkill. Not in the slightest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time for more shenanigans!!

**Dean**

When he decided to go on this hunt alone, he’d expected a lot of things. He’d expected the nest of vampires. He’d expected the werewolf along the way.

_ Alright, not really,  _ Dean grumbled internally. _ But I’m trying to make a point here. _

He had not expected to turn a supposedly dead archangel into roadkill. Not in the slightest.

But that was exactly what had happened, and now he was standing over the body of a possibly dead trickster with absolutely no idea what to do. Because he’d seen this exact same angel die three years ago, and _again_ four months ago. 

To be fair, it hadn’t really been Gabriel the second time. But who the hell knew if this one was really him either? If Sam had done what he thought he did, Dean was going to kill him.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts. That was something he could mull over on his way back to the bunker, but for now, Dean had to figure out what to do with the body in front of him.

It was still breathing, which could be good or bad, he wasn’t quite sure yet. Unfortunately, it was bleeding. A lot.

__ Then, it dawned on him. The only logical answer to his problem. 

Dean not-so-carefully hefted the body up, carrying the damn thing bridal-style back to the car. Once there, he sat it down on the floor, propping him up against his car, making sure to keep any and all blood off of the shiny exterior. 

“There better not be any dents in my car, or I’m gonna leave you in the street,” He said aloud, though he was the only conscious one around.

__ He went around the front to check, making sure to explore every inch of the impact zone. It took him longer than it should have, but it was worth it. Going back to the body, he gave it a once over. 

_ Eh, a little torn up, but he’ll live. Probably. _

Shrugging to himself, the hunter unlocked the trunk and cleared a space for Gabriel. Like he’d said, he wasn’t about to get any blood on his seats, and the trunk was a perfectly safe place to ride in. Who needed seatbelts? Not a half-dead angel, that’s for sure. He picked him up once more and tossed him in the trunk.

“Alley-oop!” There was a dull thud, probably from the body hitting the gun he’d forgotten to move. “Ah shit, that was his head.”

He decided it wasn’t a big deal. He was probably already concussed, how much worse could a little bump on the noggin make it? The hunter made sure that all hands and feet were inside of the vehicle to avoid causing any more damage before slamming the trunk shut. 

Dean hopped in the car and began driving home. He ignored the loud thudding coming from the back whenever he made a sharp turn or went over a bump and opted to turn the music up as loud as possible instead.

The car ride back to the bunker had been a long one, giving Dean too much time to think about the current situation. It had given him even more time to get angrier and angrier at Sam for something he wasn’t sure he’d done in the first place. As he parked in the garage, he made a short list of what he knew:

  1. Five months ago Sam summoned a tulpa to help him find a way to get Dean and Cas out of Purgatory.



  1. The tulpa had been Gabriel, who somehow managed to be so real that he’d even convinced Sam of it. 



  1. Somewhere in all that mess, Sam had fallen for him. This was a problem, seeing as the fucking thing wasn’t real in the first place



  1. Cas told Sam that the tulpa was, well, a tulpa. The damn thing had disappeared, and for the past four months, Sam has been a wreck.



__ That’s it. Those four things were all he knew. But above all, what he’d just decided was this:

_ I’m going to walk my ass downstairs and I’m gonna find Sam in a room filled with some bullshit magic summoning symbols, trying to get his stupid angel boyfriend back. _

His grand entrance consisted of slamming the door to the bunker shut behind him and stomping down the stairs with a purpose. Of course, sometimes he forgot that he and Sam had one other occupant here, which is why he was just a bit surprised by said occupant silently appearing next to him.

“Dean, you’re back.”

He jumped, feeling his soul nearly leave his mortal body. He turned and found his angel, bright blue eyes happy to see him. 

“Jesus christ, Cas, learn to make noise when you walk.”

“I apologize.” Cas paused to give Dean a quick peck on the lips. At the lack of a reaction, he furrowed his brow. “You seem upset. May I ask what is wrong?”

“I’m just going to have a little chat with Sam.”

Cas trailed closely behind him. Dean could practically hear the concern coming from him.

“What is it you _ think _ he did this time?” 

The hunter went down the hallway, walking with a purpose. 

“I  _ think  _ he did something stupid. Again.”

“What exactly do you th-”

Arriving at Sam’s current door, Dean practically kicked it in. Cas jumped, and across the room, an oversized lump fell from the bed, scrambling to get up off of the floor. 

To say Sam looked like shit would be an understatement. His red-rimmed eyes were sunken in, with dark purple circles around them, probably from too many sleepless nights. Dean wasn’t sure when he’d last washed it, but his hair was greasy and knotted, and definitely longer than it was when he’d seen him last. It seemed like he’d at least managed to shave somewhat recently and rinse himself off, based on the stubble growing in. 

He stopped to consider whether or not he should really be as angry as he should be. Dean dismissed the thought as soon as it popped into his head. The whole fucking reason Sam like this is because he summoned the thing in the first place, there’s no way Dean was letting him get away with doing it again.

“Dean? What’s wrong?”

Sam had hefted himself up off of the ground, along with the sheet that had fallen along with him. He’d wrapped himself in it, looking almost like a scared kid. He may have been standing at his full height, but there was something in the way that he held himself that just made him seem...broken. 

“I don’t know, Sammy, you tell me.”

He looked genuinely confused, cocking his head and knitting his brows together.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, tell me where the hell you’ve got all the summoning sigils. Tell me why the  _ hell _ you decided to fuck yourself over like this again.” As he spoke, his voice raised more and more. As his voice got louder, Sam seemed to shrink smaller and smaller with every word he said.

“Dean, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His brother’s voice was just as tiny as he looked.

“The damn tulpa sigils! I’m talking about you summoning him again. I’m talking about Gabriel, Sammy.”

At the sound of the archangel’s name, Sam dropped the sheet, face going absolutely blank. It was like someone had pressed an off button.

Dean was spun around to face Cas, who he’d completely forgotten about. His face was contorted in anger.

“I’d like to know what the hell you think you’re doing.” He snarled.

“I’m talking to my brother about him deciding to bring his fucking boyfriend back.”

A voice behind him spoke up, shaky and weak.

“I didn’t do anything, I didn’t bring him back, Dean. If I could, I would have a long time ago, you know I would. I swear, I  _ swear _ I didn’t do anything.”

He turned to look at his brother, immediately regretting coming in, guns blazing. Tears streamed down Sam’s cheeks, and pure heartbreak was painted on his face. 

“Then why the hell do I have a goddamn archangel in my trunk?!”

Dean quickly learned that it might have been better to start the conversation off with something as important as that.

The last time he’d seen Sam get clothes on and go that rapidly had been before he and Cas landed their asses in purgatory. He was out the door and into the hallway in the blink of an eye, fast enough that Dean had to jog over to him in order to catch up. Cas, as always, walked along behind them. He was the first of the three to speak up.

“What do you mean, you have an angel in your trunk? Why didn’t he come in here with you?”

The hunter grimaced and shrugged as they struggled to keep up with Sam’s long strides. “I ran into him on the way home. Kinda literally, but he’s an angel, so he should be fine after getting hit with a car, right?”

He ran directly into his brother, who’d slammed on the brakes too quickly for him to even react. Before he knew it, Sam was grabbing him by the shirt collar and lifting him to look him straight in the eye. 

“Dean.” Sam growled. “Tell me you didn’t run him over and then put him in the fucking trunk.”

“I didn’t run him over and put him in the trunk.”

Cas cleared his throat, shooting Dean a pointed look that just screamed,  _ If you don’t tell the truth right now, you’re about ten times more likely to die at the hand of your angry brother. _

“Alright, I didn’t run him over, I hit him with the car, there’s a difference. It wasn’t my fault, he came flying out of nowhere! I’ve got my money on Purgatory, but I could be wrong.”

The grip on his collar tightened, enough that he could have sworn he heard the fabric itself scream in terror.

“Why the  _ hell _ would you  _ ever  _ think it’s okay to put someone you just hit into  _ the trunk of your car?!” _

“He was gonna get blood on my seats!”

Next thing he knew, he was seeing stars after being thrown aside into a wall that was a lot harder than he’d expected it to be. His brother and his angel were gone, Sam had bolted down the hall and Cas had followed suit. 

Dean used the wall to help him stand back up, shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of his growing headache. 

_ Alright, that’s enough excitement for today. I wonder if Cas restocked the beer? _

So, being the great older brother he was, he grabbed a beer, retreated to his room, and left them to deal with Gabriel on their own. Sometimes he thought he deserved a medal.

  
  
  


**Sam**

  
  


_ He’s alive. _

__________

His feet scrabbled for purchase on the cool tile floors, and at the speed he was going, Sam ended up slamming into walls nearly every time he made a sharp turn as he ran through the halls. But god, he couldn’t have cared less about the pain in his knees, shoulders, or every bit of the rest of his body as he crashed and tripped into and onto and over what seemed like everything in the damn bunker. 

The only thing he was focused on at that moment was the angel,  _ his _ angel, in the trunk of his brother’s car.

Sam’s mind frantically screamed at him, trying to talk sense into him.  _ He’s not yours, he never was,  _ It whispered. He should listen, he knew that much, but he was too far gone to even process anything else that was happening. 

The door to the garage was heavy and reinforced to prevent intruders. Its only flaw was the fact that it was made of wood. He and Dean had been meaning to change it for a while, but had never gotten around to it.

Sam quickly demonstrated exactly why they needed a replacement, running full speed ahead into it. It flew off of its hinges, splintering the frame and sailing down the few stairs towards the floor. He went along with it, landing with a tooth-rattling  **_THUNK_ ** . 

Despite the wind having just been knocked out of him, he painfully picked himself up off the floor, nearly dragging himself over to the Impala. 

Of course, Sam had left the keys in the pocket of the brother he’d recently thrown into a wall. Looking around, he spotted a rusting crowbar. Snatching it up, he bounded over to the car and slammed it into the top of the trunk hard enough that the crowbar itself broke, shards of deteriorated metal flying everywhere. Thankfully, the blow had landed near the left-hand corner of it, conveniently managing to hopefully miss the person inside and slightly pop the hood open on one side.

Using every ounce of strength he had, Sam slowly but surely pried the trunk of the car open. 

He threw it wide, and every memory he’d tried so hard to suppress, to forget, came flooding back to him. 

_ “What the hell kind of a mess did you get yourself into this time, Sam?”  _

_ That’s how he came back, the first damn words he said. The first thing Sam saw was that stupid smirk on his face. _

The angel was lying in fetal position, bloodied and bruised.

_ Playful eyes, glowing in the sunlight. The grin that made it all okay for a while. _

His face was a mask of pain, despite being unconscious. He looked frail and weak, the exact opposite of what he really was and always had been.

_ Strength and power radiated from him, it didn’t matter just how small he really was. Whatever he lacked in height or absolutely anything else, he made up for in personality. _

__ There was blood in his hair, hiding its usual luster. Sam reached out to brush it out of his face but stopped at the last minute. 

_ He loved it when Sam ran his hands through his hair. He’d lean into Sam’s touch and just melt. Sam used to say that Gabriel might as well be a cat, and he’d just laugh and kiss him like he always did. _

Sam didn’t notice the tears until they began dropping from his cheeks onto his hand, which hovered tentatively over his angel. Against his better judgement, he closed the distance and threaded his fingers through golden hair. He tried his best to remove as much of the dry, flaking blood as he could. 

He gasped when his fingers didn’t go right through the angel, when the feeling of matted hair under his hand registered. It was almost painful for him, but he carefully felt around and examined the archangel for any broken bones or any wounds that needed to be patched immediately. 

Upon accidentally brushing against an exposed cut on his arm, Gabriel whimpered and flinched. Sam snatched his hand away so quickly he nearly broke it. 

“Sam, do not worry. I believe he is alright for the most part.”

“Holy shit!”

He jumped nearly five feet into the air at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Sam hadn’t even seen Cas trailing behind him, he’d been so detached from the world. Looking over, Castiel was staring at him, concern and surprise obvious on his face. Sam’s outburst had shocked him as well, from what he could tell. 

“God, I’m sorry Cas. I didn’t hear you, you kinda snuck up on me.”

“I’ve been told I need to make more sound when walking.”

He gave Sam a soft, comforting smile. 

In the time after Sam lost Gabriel, or whatever he really was, Castiel had come to be Sam’s guardian angel. Without him, Sam would have withered away to nothing. It’s not like he cared whether or not he lived to see the next morning.

When he was bedridden and detached, barely on this plane of existence, he’d hear a warm voice urging him to get up. There’d be a familiar weight on the bed next to him, someone sitting down. He’d open his eyes to Castiel holding a small bowl of soup or rice, a spoonful extended towards him. 

Even if he’d tried to turn his head away, Cas would never let him refuse. Gently, he would prop Sam up and feed him, no matter how long it took.

He was the one who would physically drag Sam to the shower and wait for him to finish up, waiting outside with a warm, fluffy towel. Cas was possibly the only reason he was still alive right now, and while sometimes he resented that, he’d come to see Castiel as his guardian angel.

“We should turn him over in order to examine his other side.”

Sam nodded and went to do just that, but ended up searching for a way to flip him and cause as little discomfort as possible. Cas seemed to be having the same issue.

“On second thought, I will simply look him over myself. In case there’s anything only I’d be able to see,” The hunter raised a single brow. Castiel shrugged. “I was referring to angelic things, such as his grace and wings.”

He stepped aside to make room for the other man. Cas went to scan Gabriel, and immediately seemed to be taken aback.

“What’s wrong?”

Cas frowned, staring hard at his brother.

“It’s definitely him,” Sam let out a huge breath of air, more thankful than he probably should have been. “But I can’t seem to find his grace.”

“Did you have yours when you got out of Purgatory?”

“I was removed from Purgatory in a somewhat...unorthodox way, much different from the way he and Dean escaped, so I’m not quite sure whether or not this is a normal occurrence.”

Castiel squinted, more so than usual. Carefully, he reached toward Gabriel’s back, then went to pet what looked like empty air. He seemed to be able to feel something, hand hovering in midair, all the while resting on top of who knows what. His eyes widened and he jerked his hand back mere seconds afterwards.

“Sam, pick him up right now. Be cautious, he has a concussion.”

He would have questioned it, but something about his tone of voice made him do exactly as Castiel said, absolutely no questions asked. Sam scooped the broken angel up as quickly and carefully as possible and followed Cas, who was practically running back into the bunker. He tried his hardest to ignore the pained whimpers and groans he got from Gabriel whenever he so much as moved.

“Cas, what’s going on, what’s wrong with him?” 

Nobody could miss the blatant panic in Sam’s voice. If not for the precious cargo, he’d be running like a madman all over again, but infuriatingly enough, he was restricted to a brisk walk.

“We need to get him to a room, where’s the room closest to the healing office?”

“The healing office? What-”   
  
“The place where you keep all the things to fix people with, Sam!!”

Cas didn’t yell often, and the fact that he was right now only caused the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach intensify tenfold.

“It’s way in the back, by the dungeon. I’ll get him the room and if you need anything, you go get whatever the hell you need to get.”

“Don’t lay him on his back or his right side, his arm is broken, shoulder is dislocated, both his knees and hip are shattered, and I believe there is damage to the ribs and possible internal injuries. Be careful with him.”

Sam didn’t think he could be anything but.

They split off, Cas going towards the newly named healing office, Sam running towards the nearest room he could find. Sam picked out the closest room and destroyed the second door that had gotten into his way today, kicking it in with every ounce of strength he had. 

It was a miracle that Gabriel was still unconscious, a miracle he was still alive at all. A surge of rage bubbled up from inside him, all directed towards Dean. The angel could have died,  _ his _ angel could have died, entirely because he wasn’t put into the car the right way. 

_ Candy wrappers strewn everywhere, just to get his attention, just to get Sam to smile after bitching at him to pick them up. Gabriel sure as hell knew that Sam didn’t mind, and Sam was just happy to have someone there. He was just happy to have Gabriel there. _

Sam gingerly placed him on the bed, on his left side. He winced at the sight of Gabriel’s arm. It was definitely broken, a compound fracture. The bone was sticking straight out of his jacket, the jagged, bloody tip having ripped right through the fabric . 

_ “You’re allowed to look after yourself, you know.” _

_ Gabriel cared so much for him, he just wanted him happy.  _

__ That was what kept him up every night. The fact that all that love he’d been given had really just been his own feelings projected on someone, some _ thing _ , that wasn’t even real. 

As he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked sadly down at him, Sam cursed himself for being unable to keep both versions of Gabriel separate from each other. His mind went through every memory he had of them together and he just couldn’t see how they were two completely different people.

_ Laughing like idiots after jumping into a frozen lake. It may have been the worst idea, but it had been the best time for him. With two fingers to his forehead, Gabriel promised Sam wouldn’t get pneumonia, but he had, hadn’t he? Because those two fingers and the person they belonged to simply weren’t real. _

He could hear Castiel’s frantic footfalls coming down the hall.

_ Soft kisses on Christmas Eve, the first time he’d felt anything but desperation and sadness for months. The first time he’d felt like himself again. Looking into mischievous, honey glazed eyes, that was when he knew it would be alright, that  _ **_they_ ** _ would be alright. _

**** Cas stopped in the doorway, somewhat confused at the lack of a door, then quickly recollected himself. His arms were full of jars, vials, and small bags filled with herbs and essences, and from what he knew, none of them went together in a way that actually helped his angel’s situation.

“Why do you need all that? You can just heal him, can’t you?”

“I can heal most of his injuries, but not all of them.”   


“You’re an angel, what ‘injuries’,” he made quotation marks with his fingers. “Are you not able to heal?”

The man next to him finished setting down everything on the side table, then turned to glare at Sam. He didn’t seem to appreciate the snide tone to his voice.

“Because, Sam,” Cas came over to lay a hand on Gabriel’s hip. “I can’t heal broken wings.”

Sam was really knowledgeable on virtually  _ anything  _ that had to do with the supernatural. After Castiel had showed up and the apocalypse started brewing, he’d gone out and researched every last thing there was to know about angels. 

Basically, he knew a whole fucking lot about angels. 

One thing he didn’t know about them was that they could break their wings. 

“Wait, broken? How the hell did he break his wings?”

Cas sighed, somewhat distracted by the grace leaving him in order to heal Gabriel’s hip. 

“I...don’t know how it happened. I’ve never heard of it before, wings are very sturdy, nearly unbreakable. God made them as such for a reason.”

“Then how did this,” Sam gestured at the space where Gabriel’s wings would have been. “End up happening?

“I’m not sure what, but there is something wrong with my brother.”

“Yeah, I think I noticed that too.”

Castiel ignored the comment and took Sam’s hand in his free one, guiding it to Gabriel’s back. Before he could protest, his hand hit something nearly solid. Cas seemed to have expected Sam to recoil, but neither of them had foreseen the shadows of Gabriel’s wings to appear.

Gabriel moaned in pain as Sam and Castiel stared down in horror at the three pairs of mangled, broken wings bound tightly to his back. 

“I did not believe that would happen.”

“Alright, you know what? I need you to tell me what’s going on. I don’t know what’s happening and I, of all people,  _ should _ know.”

Cas lifted his other hand from Gabriel’s now-healed hip to inspect his work, then moved down to fix his wrecked knees.

“Our wings do not...reside on this plane of existence. They stay on the astral plane, hidden from your view, but fully visible to all others of our kind. Currently, his are mostly invisible to us both, but just visible enough to know that they are there. Unfortunately for him, it also seems that they’re somewhat tangible.”

“He’s not going to be able to move without crushing his wings, then,” Sam whispered, horrified.

Cas gave no answer, which seemed to be a recurring theme during this conversation.

“I believe his wings are stuck between this plane and the astral plane.” Gabriel groaned, shifting slightly, only to make a pained noise and move back. There really wasn’t any position that wouldn’t cause him any discomfort. Sam grimaced as if he was the one broken and battered. 

“What’s strange is that whenever I do get a glimpse of them, they’re tightly bound to his back. You saw that when they materialized as best they could,” Sam nodded absentmindedly, both lost in thought and in shock. “They either can’t or won’t move, which is highly unusual for an angel.”

“And they’re broken. They’re being held down tightly, and they’re broken. Is it hurting him?”

“It is most likely helping more than hurting him. The bones are being kept in place despite being broken, almost like a cast.”

“Well, at least you can  _ try _ to heal him.”

“That’s another issue. I already did, but something is preventing me from doing so.”

Sam threw his hands up in frustration. 

“Well that’s just great.”

“It may be tied to the fact that I’m unable to see his grace at the moment. Unlike his wings, his grace is completely hidden to me.”

Cas moved his hand to Gabriel’s ribcage. He seemed to remember that he had another hand and moved that one to his head, trying to finish the job as quickly as possible.

“I’m about to heal whatever head wounds he has right now, so you may leave if you’d like to.”

“How come?”

“It’s likely that he will wake up when I’ve finished.”

_ He wanted to see him. _

**_He couldn’t see him, he couldn’t do that._ **

Rubbing the back of his neck, he stood up slowly, reluctantly walking towards the door. He turned to Cas before he stepped over the broken door and into the hallway.

“Thanks. For thinking of me. I’m sorry.”

The angel gave him a sad, knowing smile. 

“I know you wouldn’t leave unless you had to.”

As he turned the corner, he heard Castiel call out to him.

“And Sam, try not to kill Dean!”

He didn’t reply. If he ran into his brother, all bets were off. But that wasn’t what he was on his way to do. No, he was doing something far more important than that.  Sam made his way back to the garage, hoping he could find a stronger crowbar on his way there.

__________

There was not, in fact, a stronger crowbar.

Actually, there wasn’t another crowbar, period. Apparently the only one they had was the rusty piece of shit that lay on the floor, broken beyond repair. It only mattered until he spotted a sledgehammer about halfway across the garage. He enjoyed the weight of it in his hands, it felt sturdy and secure, almost like it was the only thing keeping him grounded right then. 

Sam turned around to face his brother’s car. 

The trunk was smashed in on one side, thanks to the aforementioned crowbar. Other than that, the Impala seemed fine. He made his way all the way around it, inspecting every inch of it, just to see if he could find any other imperfections. There was nothing else. 

He stopped once he was where he’d originally started, simply facing the trunk. 

_ You hurt me, I hurt you. _

Sam lifted the sledgehammer.

With a sickening crunch, the trunk went from somewhat intact to being a completely caved in mess.

_ Shattered hip _

He lifted it again.

The fender went next, then the tire rims. Sam flicked open a pocket knife and slashed the tire, enjoying watching it deflate. He calmly walked over to the other side and did the same thing.

_ Shattered knees _

Sam took a few steps forward and swung. 

The door on the driver’s side was down for the count, now concave. He brought his fist down on the rearview mirror, sending it straight down to shatter on the floor.

_ Broken arm, dislocated shoulder _

He opened one of the back doors, set the hammer aside, then brought the knife down to rip through the upholstery. Afterwards, he happily smashed in both that door and the one on the other side, enjoying the tinkling noise of the glass falling from the now broken windows. 

_ Damage to the ribs, possible internal injuries _

Sam walked to the front. 

Bringing the hammer down on the hood of the car made the alarm start going off, but he kept going. 

_ Head injuries _

The hammer went down one last time, absolutely crushing the roof of the car. The alarm gave one last weak cry and stopped completely.

_ Broken wings. _

Dropping the hammer, he walked out of the garage with no regrets.

__________

  
  


Sam was at the table, sipping at a bowl of now-cold broth in an attempt to calm himself down when someone came up behind him and yanked him out of his seat. He fell on his ass, which ended with him staring up at his brother’s infuriated and bruised face.

“You.”

Pushing himself back up, he grabbed a napkin and began mopping up the broth that was now covering the table and some of the floor.

“Yeah, me. What’s up?”

Dean punched him.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t expected it. Sam knew it was coming at some point. He also knew that right now, he was really glad he didn’t have that sledgehammer with him, or he might not have a brother anymore. 

Sam brushed it off and hit back, twice as hard. “You don’t get to be angry at me. You do  _ not  _ get to be fucking angry with  _ me.” _

“Oh, the hell I don’t! You killed my car after I brought your dumbass angel home.”

He surged forward and grabbed Dean by the shirt collar, lifting him a few inches in the air.

“You,” Sam snarled. “Ran him over and threw him in the fucking trunk.”

Sam dropped him. It shouldn’t have brought him pleasure to see his brother fall on his ass when landing.

“You didn’t care whether he lived or died. Do you want to know what you did to him?”

Dean sat up, wiping blood from his mouth. He definitely had a split lip.

“Jesus christ, is there  _ anyone _ who isn’t going to fucking hit me today?” Dean sneered, pushing himself fully off of the ground, standing to look Sam straight in the eye. “I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. You know what, Sammy? I could have just left his ass there to rot on the road. Maybe I should have, but instead, I brought him back. For  _ you. _ ”

“You almost killed him! If Cas wasn’t here, he would probably be dead.”

They were both holding their ground, both ready to tear the other to shreds.

“How the hell would you have reacted if that had been Cas? What the hell would you have done?” There was no response to that one. He didn’t need to hear it, because he sure as hell already knew the answer. “You almost took him away from me."

_ Again. _

Neither of them said it, but they both heard it. He’d meant for it to sound angry, accusing, but it’d come out broken. His voice cracked, thick with tears he didn’t know were trickling down his cheeks until he saw one fall to the floor. 

“I’m sorry about the car.”

“Cas’ll fix it, she’s gonna be alright. I’m sorry about, uh,” Dean gestured towards the rooms. “The angel. Gabriel.”

Sam grimaced, trying to get him out of his head. 

“Cas will fix him. I think he’s going to be alright.”

_ He has to be alright. _

Neither of them really knew what to do now. Dean stood awkwardly, while Sam tried to get himself to stop crying like a little bitch. 

So when Dean wrapped him in a big brother hug, there were no complaints. He was so close to falling apart, and he could practically feel his brother keeping him together, making sure he stayed safe and as okay as he could possibly be right now.

“Aww, look, Cassie. They’re bonding!"

Sam nearly snapped his neck, he turned his head so quickly.

He looked exhausted and pained, his clothes and hair were still mostly covered in blood, but he looked much better than someone who just got hit by a car should. 

The blood drained from Sam’s face.

“Gabriel.”

He made jazz hands and shot Sam a playful grin.

“Hey, Sammy. Miss me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please comment feedback, it helps keep me motivated and helps me know what you guys do and don't like!
> 
> Follow me on Instagram at @archangelica_angelica or on tumblr at innersanctuaries if you want to get in touch or just to watch me shitpost!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please comment feedback, it helps keep me motivated and helps me know what you guys do and don't like!
> 
> Follow me on Instagram at @archangelica_angelica or on tumblr at innersanctuaries if you want to get in touch or just to watch me shitpost!


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